


that's just how the story

by jimbeiscaptain



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimbeiscaptain/pseuds/jimbeiscaptain
Summary: “No,” She says slowly and Ohara burns in the back of her eyelids; slowly, slowly and it rewinds every moment: of a man of ice and history being written in a small boat. It’s a film she doesn’t know how to pause.  “I don’t want a family.”“What do you want then?”“The True History”---The four times Robin meets the Emperors and one time she meets the King of the Pirates.





	that's just how the story

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I just updated this because I was working on Big Mom's chapter. Major changes are at the beginning so I could develop Robin's character more.
> 
> The only violence is of Robin's encounter with the villagers. She's twelve in this. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> The title comes from a song of Lemony Snicket's Netflix adaptation - "That's Not How the Story Goes."

In this story, on an unnamed island and deep in a forest, Robin does not find a phoenix in her quest to complete her dream. Nor does she find a happy ending. She finds sorrow instead. 

The island is small. The agricultures are plentiful. The flags are hovering high in the air. The wind is good here and the land is large enough for its residents. The townspeople smile politely at Robin when she walks through their village, staring at her face and whispering, whispering among themselves about her at a distance. There are no marines in this town.

After all, this is an Emperor’s territory. Piracy is common and news travels fast. 

This is the standard in a small town in the New World. No news is old news in this town. Nico Robin is the only unusual factor. 

In the village, the apples are on sale. A skinny vendor with a thin face and a wrinkled forehead at her frowns at her when Robin examines the apples. On the desk is a collection of old newspapers. 

“Young lady, you look awfully familiar. Did you come here alone?” 

Robin runs a hand over the dog by the vendor and smiles at the vendor. “No, we’ve never met. My parents are in the boat waiting for me. We are just stopping by.” 

“No need to hurry,” The fat lady next to the vendor says cheerily. “We are having a festival tonight. Your family is welcome to come!” 

A festival? Her eyes start to blur. 

“You will need to bring money. Visitors need to pay.” The haughty woman is quick to comment. Robin feels her smile drop as she continues to look at her. “Are you sure I don’t know you?” 

“Johanne! Don’t be rude!”

“Do you think I’ll really let her see our festival for free?” The woman sighs and her voice starts to fade out. “It’s not every day an Emperor comes by.”

Saul liked festivals, didn’t he?

“Nonsense! She’s a little girl!” The fat lady’s chipper voice rises in volume. Robin stares hard at the apple. She’s not hungry anymore, but it is food. 

She packs the apples. Would Saul hav-, she thinks and, no! No no no. No! Now is not the time. Stop. Stop thinking. Not now. No. 

The two women are still bickering. 

“Thank you for the apples,” She pipes up and her voice is even. Both glance at her. “I need to go back. My parents are probably worried about me now. Could you tell me the way to the forest?”

The fat lady smiles. “Of course! Have a good day, dear. Go straight up and take a couple of rights and you’ll see it.”

The haughty lady only nods. Well, okay then. 

A man with a top hat and a mustache bumps into her and her bag topple out of her hands. “Get out of the way, little girl!” The man scoffs at her and walks away. 

Both of their voices ring in Robin’s ears a few seconds later. “I knew I recognized her from somewhere.” The haughty lady whispers in a voice she clearly thinks is discreet. Robin freezes.

“What do you mean?’

Hands shaking, she hurries. The strawberries keep falling.

“Do you remember Ohara?” 

Ohara. The word was like a gunshot; a bullet through her heart and Robin moves. Ohara, ohara, ohara. Fire. She picks up the bag. Saul. Her mother.

All burned. Gone. Stop.

Both of them stare at her frozen figure. 

“Yes.” 

“That’s the girl!” The skinny woman’s vendor’s voice increases in volume until it is screeching and Robin can feel the vibrations of the voice down to her core. “That’s the girl! Look!”

Every head swivel to stare at the skinny woman who has stood up and started pointing at Robin. “Look, damnit! That’s the girl who burned down her own damn island! Someone catch her before she kills us all!”

“Get the Ohara girl!” 

Robin runs. She turns and ducks underneath the hands. The villagers who were observing them until this point, look at her and they look, and they run. Few men begin to shoot at her and the bullets fly. 

She kicks at the ground and shoves aside a kid blocking her way. She doesn’t look at the kid makes a pained yelp when they hit the ground.

No time. 

“Jeremy!” A man shouts out. “Are you okay?”

Her thighs hurt. More people are coming outside of their houses. She is surrounded and as she thinks, the kid nods.

The same man who shouted his name uses the moment to tackle her. He pulls both of them up and pulls her back close to his chest.

He lifts her in the air and hugs her close to his body. It would be comforting if he wasn’t trying to kill her. He tightens his arm against her throat, the other holding her waist and presses down hard.

Her bag falls to the ground.

“I have her! Kill her!”

Her chest falls up and down and up and down and she tries to breathe to breathe, tries to gulp down large mouthfuls of air. She shoves at him and hammers at his chest with her fists. He only presses down harder. Her vision grows darker. 

Breathe.

Ohara. No. Stopstopstop. 

Another bullet flies at her and using the last amount of her strength, she kicks backward at the man’s groin then she sees red. He falls backward, clutching at himself and the bullet hits his lungs, and he collapses on the ground.

She kneels on the ground and gulps down air. She gets back on her feet and though the world is moving around her and she feels like falling, she clenches her jaw. 

“Daddy!” The kid who had been blocking Robin’s path suddenly flies past her and bawls. “Daddy! Someone help him!”

She can feel the earth beneath her as she flinches when she feels a bullet graze her thigh. Breathing in and out rapidly, she looks around her surroundings. More people are coming with guns and an ax, hammer, common household items. 

“Capture her!” A broad man with one eye shouts. The crowd mutters is agreement. 

“Protect our island! Protect our family and our community!” 

She is surrounded. 

Nico Robin closes her eyes. She wraps an arm around her neck and visualizes millions of her left arms on each of the guns people’s neck and delivers a hook punch to the front side of her jaw sharply to the right. Crack. 

She hears the bodies fall and she runs. 

She runs to the shouts of “Monster!” and to the beats of horrified gasps, the resounding slamming of the doors, and the screams of despair and shouts to call for help. Somewhere behind her, the kid is sobbing hysterically as his father bleeds out with bodies around them. 

Saul. Who?

“Run away! There’s a monster around you!” The familiar screech of the vendor repeats in the background as Robin sprints further out of the village. Her path is now easier with everyone avoiding her.

“Run! The Ohara monster is here!”

Hey Saul, it looks like there’ll be no festival tonight. 

Robin rubs furiously at her eyes. 

The forest is a welcome sight and Robin hides in a pile of leaves near a bush. 

She goes into a fetal position and buries her head into her thighs and wraps her arms around herself. Though she knows it is unwise, it is unsafe – thousands of men could be hiding behind trees with knives ready to capture her and give her head to the World Government; Robin cries. 

It is long and ugly, but quiet. Any noise she makes, she muffles with her sore hands. 

She hiccups and her nose is dripping snot. Saul, Clover, mom, the archeologists, and everyone she ever knew. Ohara. They’re all dead and it’s because of her. Need to forget about them. 

She turns over and pounds carelessly at the earth. Eventually, sleep takes over.

It is not until sunset that Robin wakes up in a panic. 

When she does, the first thing she sees in the darkness is a sleeping phoenix in a nest. The blue flames are like a nightlight.

The phoenix is of sky-blue feathers with a golden mane. It is not tightly curled up; the wings are far from its body and the phoenix appears to be sleeping on its back. How peculiar. 

Clover told her they were rare mystical creatures. No one has heard of them or seen them in centuries. But what rumors they did hear about it made it well-desired for this bird; this bird, which had flames and had the power of reincarnation had tears that could heal people. The last of its kind.

Like the phoenix burns, Clover burned. But unlike the phoenix, Clover did not come back to life. None of those from Ohara will and it is her fault.   
Keeping her eyes on the bird, Robin kneels on the ground and squeezes her eyes shut. She sprouts ears on a tree behind her, high enough that no one could spot it without looking up. 

She stares at the phoenix, memorizing the details of its feathers and how the flame seems to stay resistant to the oxygen; how the flames flicker with each movement the bird makes in its sleep; all the details Clover would’ve loved to hear in her shaky lines and scrawled handwriting.

The flames of the phoenix remind her of the sky and of her mother’s eyes she carries.   
She stands up and brushes off the dirt. It is then she hears the sound of laughter and footsteps with her sprouted ears. She glances around and spots a sturdy tree with dense leaves.

She grasped the trunk and began to climb. On the top branch, she tucks herself in the shadows of the leaves and with her back up away from the trunk, she begins to start pushing down at the branch nearest her with her sore arms. She grits her teeth and pushes on, sprouting more arms. 

When the men come in her sight, they carry weapons. One man with a sword and the other with two and strangely enough, clothes for an adult and bags of food. She listens to them as one man, with a pompous walk and hair to match, cheerfully jokes about their fallen friend and cracks bird puns that has the other man groaning.

The minute they get close enough, crouching down on her branch with most of her body weight on the branch, Robin pushes down on the branch hard and she hears a snap. Next thing she knows, she’s falling down. 

She plummets down onto the ground. 

One of the men narrowly avoids it by rolling away and looks up at her. He tugs up his friend and grips the hilt of his swords. “What harm have we done to deserve this?” He says. At his side, his companion without a mustache takes the supplies and stares hard at her body on the ground. 

She doesn’t lift her head. The nausea she was feeling before came back with a vengeance. Now the world’s spinning around again and all she wants to do is throw up. The only ones she can see is the men and the forest, which means the phoenix is behind her.

She thinks, it’s the last of its kind like her and smiles; tells them, “Don’t pretend to be a fool.” 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re attacking us.” The same man with a mustache says. He moves closer to Robin and holds out his hands. “Come with us, we won’t hurt you. My name is Vista from the Whitebeard crew.”

She feels her heart stop and instead of answering, she sprouts arms on the other man – the pompous one – and places him in a submissive hold. 

The pompous man raises an eyebrow and easily gets out of her grasp. Still, she cannot give up. She cannot. “I won’t allow you to go further, mister.” She says and pushes herself up. Facing them, she hugs herself. “Not unless you want to have your spine broken.”

Her voice trembles and both men stare at her in shock. 

“Leave her alone, Vista and Thatch,” A new voice says suddenly. It does not come from either man she’s facing and she spins around to look at the phoenix to only find it gone and, in its place, a man. She meets the eyes of a drowsy-looking man sitting with his legs crossed instead. His clothes are scruffy with holes on it.

He smiles down at her, a kind of crooked smile that is genuine, but she can feel his power strangulating her as he rubs his eyes and yawns. It makes no logical sense that he Is, no, or was the phoenix. None of it makes sense. Neither does her can sprouting copies of her body parts and she did not hear someone approach her. 

She’s never heard of a man who is a phoenix. But she’s never heard of anyone like her either. And yet -

“Thank you for protecting me.” He says and walks over to the men. One of them whines about how he brought clothes for nothing. He laughs. “But I don’t need it. They’re my crewmates.”

And yet – this man appeared where the phoenix was minutes ago. She did not hear him come or see him with her eyes.

“You’re not a phoenix, aren’t you?” Her statement is laced with the hints of disappointment Robin couldn’t prevent showing in her voice.

He raises an eyebrow and answers her with the ease of a man who had to answer questions in the same vein. “I am and a human as well. My name is Marco. Does it matter?”

Does it matter? Once upon a time, it would have to her because the chances of a phoenix existing would have become slimmer. She would have cared. But now it's different; she can't afford it. “No,” She shrugs. “I got a nice gift.”

“It sounds like it matters to me.”

She shrugs and gives him a thin smile. “Mister Phoenix, we just became acquaintances. How could you possibly know?” The man with a pompous hairstyle lets out a bark of laughter.

Now, as she recalculates the odds of her survival after this and thinks about how even if she gave him her best clutch and poisoned him, he’d heal. With two more men, who he claims is his friends, she is outnumbered and doomed. She absently wondered if the men would cut her head off. 

She breathes in and out. 

Marco narrows his eyes at her, but before he can say anything, the other two men approach her. One of them, Mustache, she recalls the name of belatedly asks, “What are we going to do about her, Marco? And what do you mean that she protected you?”

“I’m taking her to Pops and she saw me in my phoenix form before you two did. She didn’t try to hurt me.”

“Interesting. She’s only, what, fourteen or so though.”

“And? We’d had younger crewmates.”

Vista meets her hard gaze. “They were all temporary.”

The man with the pompous hair wipes the dirt off his clothes and jabs Vista in the ribs with his elbow. “Hi, there! I’m Thatch. Please ignore Vista.” He says quite cheerfully. 

“Oh, speaking of him! I apologize for him not being friendly –“He whispers to Robin as he bends down. She stares at him. “-he’s not learned social manners yet.”

Vista coughs. “I can hear you.”

“And I can poison your food, what of it?”

Vista sighs and folds his arms. “What his point is, will you come with us? We can help you.”

“You’re right Mister Mustache,” She draws in another breath and flinches. “Now, why do you think I need or want your help.”

They exchange looks and it is Marco who answers, “We’re taking you back to the ship, Nico Robin, to meet Pops. I think you’d find it beneficial to you.” None of the men appear surprised at his words.

Pops. He means the Emperor Whitebeard. So that what the festival was for. 

She smiles thinly at him. “You knew who I was all this time? How rude of me.” She was certain now they were probably going to feed her to the sharks. Hopefully, she tasted good.

Or would they give her to the boy for him to kill? 

“Will you come?” Marco says.

“Sure, Mister Phoenix.” She finally says. How nice it is to have the illusion of a choice.   
Marco and Vista nod and they lead the way out of the forest, to where she can smell the sea, taking slow steps. Neither of them is as subtle they’d like to think they are, but none of them urges her to be in the front. 

Thatch grins down at her and walks so his steps would match her. She purposefully speeds up and slows down to watch him stumble over his feet, but he doesn’t stop. It draws a quiet snicker from her.

“Mister Phoenix?” He says. “So, what’s that all about?”

She doesn’t deign to answer.

“Giving me the cold shoulder huh? Well, that’s okay, I suppose it’s an obvious answer anyway whatnot with phoenix form.”

He continues talking about how Marco likes sunny days and how he got sent flying by an enemy to the island so Vista and he went looking for the bird and Robin tunes him out after this. She can feel the sea breeze.

Saul would like those people; he would like how Marco is a bird and how none of them hurt her. He would encourage her to befriend them. But Saul is dead and she isn’t. 

“Miss Robin,” Thatch grins at her. “What’s your favorite ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” She doesn’t mean to sound as confused as she is. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Thatch says, utterly devastated. “Marco, Vista, she doesn’t know what ice cream is! How utterly horrible!”

Vista raises an eyebrow at her. “You really don’t know?”

She quietly says, “No.”

“Thatch, quit being dramat-“ Marco says.

“Dramatic?” Thatch interrupts and throws his hands in the air. “Marco, she doesn’t know what ice cream is? I’m serving her all the possible flavors tonight or my Great Gran will lecture me when I die.”

She raises her shoulders and lowers her head, feeling her grip tighten.

“Thatch’s overdramatic, but he means well. He’s just not used to a childhood on the streets.” Vista says after a moment’s pause, his eyes on the bickering Thatch and Marco. Somehow though the lines of his mouth are stoic, his eyes are anything but as they are soft around the edges.

His eyes shift to hers and Robin feels wonder; this man doesn’t know her but he dares to look at her with soft eyes and there’s no sign of resentment. Robin feels nauseous.  
How strange they are for an Emperor’s crew, she thinks, how foolish. The rumors of Whitebeard, the Pirate King’s former rival and the strongest man on the sea, never spoke about the kind of crew they had. But she slipped up, made a foolish mistake, and it was her life she would pay for it.

“And you are, Mister Mustache?”

“I suppose I am.”

Before she can say anything in response, she hears the ocean and sees the stiff lines of the men relax. Seafarers are never at rest until they’re on the ocean, Saul once said, it’s their home. Soon enough, the grass becomes sand and there’s a huge ship before her. The Moby Dick, she faintly recalls, shaped like a whale and houses the strongest men in the ocean.

It's so big. 

“Miss Robin? Are you coming?” Vista asks. Marco had disappeared while she took in the sights and Thatch was shouting at the men onboard to throw a rope down. 

Even then, he left his back bare to her and she could stab him in the back and use the remaining strength she had to break Vista’s neck the minute he came at her.  
His head would roll if Robin had that kind of strength. Would his neck spew blood or would it be similar to an eruption of lava?

But would she be quick enough for that? Did she have that kind of strength or would Thatch spin around with the knife in his back and grab her? Perhaps he could break her arms. Or would Vista behead her seeing what she did to Thatch like he should have the minute she returned his swords?

Or would the men on the Moby Dick jump off the ship and throw her into the sea’s mouth?

Robin wondered if she would know what her head felt like without its body to drag it down. What a shame she didn’t have enough time to discover it. So many options, some thrilling, some alarming; she wishes she had more time. Despite it all, she doesn’t want to die. 

What truly bothers her most of all – more than her own death, is how they treat her. When will they throw her into the sea? 

“I suppose I am.”

With a nod, Vista climbs up the rope and holds out a hand for her to grasp as he pulls her onboard. On the deck, Robin takes in the sights. She is surrounded by men who ask Marco who she is. She could die any minute. Out of pure habit, she counts the weapons and those who have none.

She follows Marco to the center of the deck and although the sea of people part for them, she is no fool to believe that it is because of her; that she could step and people would move for her. 

Instinctively, before she sees Whitebeard, she knows of his presence before she sees him and thinks, he’s impossible. He’s impossibly tall even sitting and she feels impossibly small in his presence that can – could – should speak volumes of his power. Yet, his presence, though huge, doesn’t strangulate her. She only feels the warmth like the sea set ablaze by the burning of Ohara.

He looks her over and she can feel his eyes on her neck, hands, and the bruises on her body. 

“Well?” Whitebeard booms. He gives her a crooked grin and she wonders if he recently shaved off his beard. “What has our lost bird brought me?”

“I’m not exactly lost anymore, Pops,” Marco says mildly. “But I’ve brought a visitor. She’s the one who attacked the villagers. Her name is Nico Robin; a bounty off seventy-nine million and the sole Ohara survivor the newspapers made a fuss about   
a few years ago.”

“This is the World Government’s enemy?” Whitebeard stood up and crouched in front of her, picking her up in her palms so they could share direct eye contact. “And what does this child think?”

“I am their enemy. That is true.”

“Hm?” Whitebeard says. “And what of attacking the villagers?”

“It is also true.”

“And is it true that they were the ones that choked you?”

She resists the urge to rub at her neck self-consciously. “Only out of self-defense.”

He laughs. “What reason would a small child like you have to attack them?”

“I burned Ohara down,” She says quietly to him. “What reason do I not have?” 

“No.”

“No?”

She looks at him and lets her confusion show on her face.

But Whitebeard does not answer her. “Thatch, get someone to find out what happened from the villagers. I will not tolerate any lies.” He then looks at Marco. “Prepare her a bed.”

Her eyes widen and before she can stop herself, she says, “How long will I be staying here?” 

He meets her eyes then. “Until you become my daughter.”

“No,” She says slowly and Ohara burns in the back of her eyelids; slowly, slowly and it rewinds every moment: of a man of ice and history being written in a small boat. It’s a film she doesn’t know how to pause. “I don’t want a family.”

“What do you want then?”

“The True History.”

He slams down his weapon and Robin’s heart rolls into the depths. “Knowledge is a dangerous thing, child. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences of True History? Of the world?” He leans in and Robin’s spine straightens. His voice rumbles in her ears. “Can you carry all of the world’s history on your back?”

“Yes.”

He closed his fist holding her and she could not move. She hears murmurs from the pirates and takes a deep breath; blinking away the furious tears. “Are you truly ready?”  
She gives him the most honest answer in a long time. “I have to be.”

“Child,” He finally says. “Join us and you’ll find your goal with your new family. We will help you become ready.”

“I tried to kill your men and would’ve killed them if I was strong enough.”

He laughs. “I don’t care,” He tells her. “We don’t need to share the same goals to help each other reach it.” He places her on the ground and stands up, his bones audibly creaking. “But I understand. The offer does not have an expiration date, child of Ohara. If you desire it, you will join us.”

“Until then,” He beckons at a person wearing a kimono and makeup. “Prepare a room for her.” When they hurry away with several crewmembers following, each heeding orders of blankets and a bed. “Until then,” He continues. “You will sail with us.”

There isn’t much of a farewell afterward; only a way introduction at first until Thatch, carrying a bowl, told them to shove it and a new beginning. As she learns what ice cream tastes like, she also learns the face of each crewmember and their names. She learns to be content. Eventually, she finds a family and protection in the Whitebeards.

This is how the story goes – Robin stays with the Whitebeards for a while for self-preservation; she finds cheer with them and laughter at their expense. She joins after a while and meets a fireman, who tells her of a rubber boy and endless laughter. She tells him, she’d love to meet him and weeps when she does meet him because he’s holding the body of his dead brother.

Her captain is dead and her crew has disbanded. She is alone and looking for True History. But she never does and the rubber boy out of pure accident reveals it to the world before she can. 

Nothing to live for anymore, she stays with Marco and Vista. But eventually, the depression overwhelms her and she gives herself to the sea. 

Or perhaps, this is how the story could go: she finds Blackbeard about to kill Thatch and breaks his spine before he can. She prevented his death, but couldn’t prevent Ace’s because when the news that Straw Hat was captured shortly after entering the New World, he went to protect his brother. Only the doctor survived to tell the tale. 

Or perhaps, years after the war and helping the rubber boy flee to safety but with her captain and crew dead, she may find her dream on her own. She may accomplish her dream and feel content as the birds carry the truth of the Void Century all over the world. 

Or she may end up dead in the sea somewhere after finding another ship to sail. She never meets Crocodile. She may never accomplish her dream and although the rubber boy has the power to hear all things, he never cares to tell the world of it. The world could carry on without the knowledge and her to tell it.

She is alone no matter how the story goes. 

But that’s not how the story goes.


End file.
